


Blissful Misery

by Alliswell



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Consensual Underage Sex, Dark!Peeta... sort of?, F/M, It’s actually not as dark as the tags suggest, Minor Character Death, OOC!Katniss... sort of?, Octoberlark 2019, Step-Sibling Incest, This was Suppose to be a Halloween Fic, Torture, Tumblr Prompts, Twist Canon Quotes, dark!everlark, multiple POVs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-01-17 02:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21258323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliswell/pseuds/Alliswell
Summary: Forbidden love was just an oversimplification of our relationship. My heart bled for her, my chest hurt with longing; she was only a foot away, but I wasn’t allowed to touch her. I was afraid the situation of my sanity was dire.Katniss and Peeta’s bumpy journey to a twisted happily ever after; with a dash of Dark!Peeta, supernatural elements and chock full of Twist canon quotes. Can you spot them all?Tags may change.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen & Katniss & Peeta's Children, Katniss Everdeen & Mrs. Everdeen, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark, Mrs. Everdeen/Mr. Mellark, Seneca Crane/Katniss Everdeen
Comments: 44
Kudos: 89





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Fan fiction work. I do not own THG of its characters.
> 
> All mistakes are mine, and I may re-edit this later.
> 
> Belated Halloween fic.
> 
> Picture is from internet stock.

The first time I heard the town boys talking about Katniss, she was sixteen, beautiful, unattainable; isolated by the very people who supposedly took care of her. She was so melancholic beautiful, it was painful.

Katniss was home _on break _from the all girls boarding school she’d been sent to earlier in the year.

And what tough year she’d have! It wasn't too much of a surprise she looked so pale, downtrodden, already shrouded by a veil of sadness and loneliness; still, she was the most beautiful girl in the whole District, and I wasn’t the only one who noticed it anymore. I was just the only one who had no business lusting after her... but lo with me! if it attracted a somewhat criminal element, then I belonged there, I guess.

It was a Sunday in October, the air cool and pungent with dying things. The wind picked up, trying to rustle the fallen leaves on the ground, too waterlogged from the Autumn sprinkles that wouldn’t let up since late September to even shiver.

The market was open for a few hours everyday— even Sunday after church— in preparation for the long winter months ahead.

A crow cawed insistently, earning my glare as it flew overhead. The dark bird looked right at home against the dark gray clouds obscuring the sky above.

I sighed, wondering for the hundredth time if the sun would ever come out? Maybe all Katniss needed was a bit of sunshine to go back to her happier self! But I knew, in my heart of hearts, sunshine wouldn’t fix the problem.

Katniss was cradling a pumpkin in her slim, frail hands. The orange skin of the gourd contrasting harshly against her black dress, the only garments that accommodated her new figure right in those days.

Her mother made no effort hiding the fact she liked the outfit’s somberness: black, button up front with a high, pointy white collar and white cuffs at the end of the long sleeves. A rather simple skirt barely obscured Katniss’ tiny waist, and ended mid calf.

Katniss’ mother commended the grieving quality of her look, because according to her, _we_ were mourning her lost innocence. She decided Katniss didn’t need colorful garments for awhile.

The women in town gushed on how mature and serious Katniss looked. On how the new school seemed to have made her quiet and reserved, as if she hadn’t been all those things before she got sprung away. But the comments only solidify the idea her mother had that she’d done the right thing, sending her daughter away. In her mind, Katniss painted this picture of a good, wholesome girl, other mothers would want their sons courting and eventually marry, when in reality, poor Katniss was drowning. Miserable. Alone.

My insides roared aflame. To me, Katniss had always been perfect. She was perfect before, and she’d be perfect after. 

Her hands, once sturdy and sure, capable of shooting arrows and picking thistles and burrs from clothing without gloves, dropped the heavy pumpkin she carried before reaching her basket of vittles. Luckily, the squash survived the fall without a bruise.

Flustered, Katniss bent over to pick it up. She heaved it next to the other many vegetables she’d already gotten from the grocer.

I swung the sack of flour I was carrying over my head, intending to go help her, but my father stepped up blocking my view, he shook his head intercepting me, even before the sack had a chance touch the ground.

Anger and resentment swoll in my chest. It was all so unfair, but I knew better than trying to go against him or my stepmother, if I wanted to keep the peace.

I still gave my father a scowl before readjusting the heavy pack of flour on my shoulder, and marched to the bakery trying to catch another glimpse of Katniss without turning my head and making it obvious.

Father walked ahead with his own burden of flour, while lagged behind all I dared.

That was when I heard them.

“That Katniss Everdeen is something else.”

I agreed with the sentiment, but up until then I hadn’t thought of the possibility that other boys might like her too, which honestly was very naive and nearsighted of me.

My ears perked up, and my eyes followed the voices out of curiosity.

“That she is, my friend. Look at her tits, why is like they grew since she was last here.” Said another boy staring at her chest without blinking.

My already sour mood turned acrid.

The speaker was Marvel Quaid, a boy from the class below mine. Marvel and his friends were perched up on ‘Goat Man’ Davis’ for sale goat pen.

Shoveling goat droppings for Mr. Davis was a quick way to make a few coins in our small town; so it wasn’t unusual for to see a handful of teenagers there.

“She sure could give Delly Cartwright a run for her money on the breast department,” Chuckled a third kid I didn’t know by name.

The way he appraised Katniss from head to toe rubbed me the wrong way, but his open staring was nothing, compared to what I heard next.

“I don’t care she looks like a nun in that garb she’s wearing, her ass looks good enough to fuck!” Added the first speaker, Cato Sanders, chortling a laugh.

I wasn’t nearly as close to them, that their gossip should’ve reached me as easily, but the idiots weren’t exactly quiet or even showed concern anyone— especially me, of all people— could hear them speaking such filth about a lady.

Anger burned in the pit of my stomach.

“You’re right, Cato. I don’t know what gave her the idea, her dress hides any of her curves?” Chuckled Marvel licking his chops like a fucking wolf about to pounce.

My anger grew into an all consuming pyre.

“Boys,” I called out nonchalantly after crossing over to them.

Three pairs of startled eyes turned to focus on me, finally leaving Katniss alone.

“Peeta!” Marvel jumped off the fence and approached me cautiously, “Uh… sorry if you heard what we were saying about your little sister.”

_My little sister._

I hated it when people reminded me of that. 

I smirked, affable and approachable. The other three boys relaxed once they saw my face. Meanwhile the rage inside me burned white while I hid it under a mask of pleasant indifference.

I put my heavy burden down by my legs and stretched my arms sideways. I had been crowned wrestling champion in the school three consecutive years. I had the strength and skill to take them on with my bare hands if provoked; even Cato, who was two years older, a foot taller, and probably fifty pounds heavier than me.

“Step sister.” I corrected jovially, “And don’t you worry, Marvel. The girl is a looker, and you ain’t blind. Right?”

The other boys chuckled nervously, but didn’t seem afraid or threatened by me.

“True.” Said Marvel, “We’re still sorry for talking about her like that. She’s a good girl, everyone in town knows it.” He said more apologetically.

Cato snorted, still atop the rail of the pen.

My eyes flew to his, all the laughter left my face. “Your throat bothering you, pal?” I asked icily.

“Nah.” Cato slid down his perch, smiling maliciously. “I just… find what Marvel just said, funny.”

“And what’s that?” I deadpanned. “Maybe we all like a laugh.” 

Cato’s cold blue eyes looked over my shoulders, where I knew good and well Katniss was struggling with a basket full of vittles three times heavier than herself.

“I heard your little sister’s goody-two-shoes persona is a well rehearsed act. She learnt it from her savage-loving mama, and now is applying it for herself—“

“Cato, come on. You shouldn’t say that kind of shit about a man’s sister in front of him.” The third kid—Jason, I believe his name was— said, jumping off the fenced as well.

It didn’t make a difference to Cato, he kept on going. “I heard her mama found her in bed with a man, and that’s why your folks sent her away.”

Cato was practically in my face. I could smell his stale breath. We stared at each other for a tense moment, and then, I threw my head back laughing heartily, as if the son of a bitch just told me the most hysterical joke in the world.

I clapped a stunned Cato on the shoulder, and I don't know how I dared say the next words, but I did, “Cato, if I hadn’t found you so funny just now, you’d be dead!” I took a step back, wiped a wayward tear from the corner of my eye and stare at him through laughing eyes. “Is lucky you’re full of shit! Katniss has never been found in bed with anyone. Like Marvel said, she is a good girl.” I said, finally chancing a look at her.

My guts twisted into a knot. She was blushing furiously. The grocer was helping her put her heavy basket on a wagon, but her scarlet cheeks were not from exertion. I knew she’d heard the conversation between me and the others, and was mortified by it.

I tried catching her eye, but she refused the contact. She dropped some coins on the grocer’s hands clumsily, and dragged the rickety wagon behind her, never once lifting her eyes from the ground.

I turned my head to face Cato and company. I gave them my most winning smile, despite feeling like tearing the whole town to shreds. She didn’t deserve any of this.

“You guys don’t see Katniss the way I do,” I stated calmly, “So I can’t blame you for believing these awful rumors. But let me make this very clear. I won’t always be so civil with people objectifying her. So please, boys, don’t let me catch you talking such filth about Katniss again?” My voice was leveled and soft.

Marvel and Jason mumbled some kind of apology, so I picked up my flour and turned started towards home.

I was only two feet away when that stupid Cato spoke up, “If ever I get her alone, I’ll still fuck her until she can’t walk straight. Good girl or not, if I get a chance, I’ll fuck her good!”

I slowly turned around. I dug my fingers into the burlap under my palms, to keep me from tearing Cato limb for limb right then and there.

I shook my head regretfully. “You shouldn’t have said that, man. Really.” I sighed, and kept walking home, ignoring the rest of Cato’s loud taunts. I would have my revenge on him soon.

Later that afternoon, I had a rare moment alone, repairing the pen fence where we kept the pigs we raised behind the bakery. My father stood on the back door stoop watching me like a hawk almost the entire time, but the bell above the front door rang, announcing a customer. 

My stepmother was out attending a birth, since she was the best midwife in town after her own mother passed away a year earlier, so my father wrung his hand on his apron and gave me a stare. 

“You be good now, Peet.” He told me under his breath. “You stay away from your sister if she comes home from returning that wagon, you hear?” It wasn’t a threat, not like the ones my stepmother would lob at me for even breathing in the same room as her daughter, but I still heard the warning.

“I get it, dad.” I growled.

“Alright then.” He said after another long minute, and finally stepped inside to tend to the costumer.

My chest was tight with sorrow and unshed tears. But I just kept hammering away, forcing myself to put a mental list of dumping slop in the pigs trough, to keep myself from falling apart. And then, she was there, causing a shudder to rip through me.

She’d stopped dead in her tracks when she came face to face with me. Her sad, gray eyes wide and startled couldn’t hide her longing, giving my heart a much needed respite.

Her luscious, plump lips fell open to let a breath out. She took a step backwards, and without consciously thinking, I cleared the pig pen fence in one jump.

My hand wrapped around her wrist just as she turned on her heels to fly back the way she came.

“Please wait.” I begged her.

She trembled at my touch.

“I’m sorry about today. I know it sounded bad, but—“

“It’s alright, Peeta.” She gave me a pained smile, avoiding my eyes. “You don’t have to explain.”

“But I want to!”

Just then, a baby wail broke out from the bakery’s kitchen door. Katniss’ head whipped in the direction of the cries, her eyes searching the back door to confirm the child was alone. Then finally, our eyes met.

How had I missed those eyes!

“I should go check on her?” She said unsured, gently prying her wrist from my grip.

I started to warn her, “My father is just inside—“

“Katniss,” Father practically yelled, “Come inside and help me feed your sister,” His tone softened, “Will you?” 

“Don’t keep Prim waiting then.” I whispered, stepping away. “Go feed her.” I encouraged with a smile.

Her eyes held mine for just a second. “Thank you.” It was long enough to give me a tentative smile before tearing into the back door, eager to take the baby she wasn’t normally allowed to hold.

“No problem.” I murmured at her back once she passed the archway.

My father fixed me with hard stare. But soon his shoulders dropped. He shook his head in disappointment and went back inside, closing the door after him.

* * *

  
** Katniss POV**

We sat in the hard wooden pews wrapped up in woolen coats and heavy shawls. The temperature was way too frigid for the middle of October.

I kept glancing at the infant in my mother’s arms, wondering if her blankets were warm enough? If her hat fit correctly? I had never knitted anything before in my life, and I worried I did a shoddy job with such a tiny hat, but I was glad my mother put it on Primrose’s little blond head before heading to church this morning, declaring the baby bonnet too flimsy for the weather.

Mother actually allowed me to dress Prim this morning, so I fussed over her, choosing the warmest gowns and layered her itty body with soft blankets. I marveled at the way her pink lips pouted in sleep, even as I slid her little arms into her sleeves. Her tiny nose reminded me of a rose bud, I couldn’t resist rubbing the tip of mine against hers.

She smelled gloriously! Like pink, and sweetness and love. So much love.

I gathered her up in my arms, and held her close to me as tightly as I dared, for I had no idea when would I’d be allowed this blessing again. And my lips started moving against her sweet head, the lullaby soft and quiet, just for her tiny ears. I closed my eyes and rocked the child in my arms dreamily. I was so gone into a world where only Prim and I existed, I didn’t even hear him step into the room, despite his heavy and graceless.

I opened my eyes to find him staring at us with such adoration, my heart squeezed in my chest.

He opened his mouth, surely to say something devastatingly sweet, but my mother bumped into him with her arm, and elbowed him out of the nursery.

She made it painfully clear he wasn’t welcome there, regardless of the fact he had all the right to be there, same way I had the right to hold the child any old time I wanted.

“Give me your sister,” Mother demanded, yanking Primrose out of my arms without waiting for a response.

Again, I felt like my whole soul got ripped from my body. Hot tears pricked my eyes, but my mother was already gone with the baby in her arms.

“I’m sorry!” Peeta breathed brokenly, desperately. “I shouldn’t have come in here. But I couldn’t help it. You were singing.”

I couldn’t look at him, “Is quite right, Peeta. I’m not angry with you.” I was a bold face lie, but even then, I felt the urge to protect him. “Let’s go before we get into worse trouble.” And just like my mother, I walked past him pushing him back with my elbow.

* * *

**Peeta’s POV**

Cato sat with his family five pews behind us. I hated the way he kept undressing Katniss with his cold eyes.

We were in church, for God’s sakes!

The anger and hurt that had been piling up in my body was almost unbearable to stand, but I did my best to ignore it.

The preacher said something that made Katniss sink deeper into her seat, I completely missed.

Our folks stood up with Prim in their arms. My father didn’t spare me a warning glance, sure he didn’t fear I’d do anything dumb in a church full of people. But my eyes were upon Katniss immediately.

I saw her hand clutching her chest, tears streaming freely down her face, her nose red, leaking snot.

I looked up at our parents, and then realized I’ve forgotten today was Prim’s dedication. Neither Katniss nor I had been asked to join with our parents in the momentous occasion.

My heart jerked in my chest.

I reached out for her hand, and to my surprise, Katniss latched on to it for dear life.

I rubbed my thumb over her hand, hoping to bring her some comfort. And for a moment, she was able to look up at our parents placing Prim into the preacher’s arms to be blessed.

After the prayers were done, a certificate was presented to our parents. Katniss asked if she could see it once her mother sat down next to her. It read the date, and name of the church that certified Primrose Everdeen-Mellark had been brought before the congregation to be dedicated to Almighty God.

Katniss’ finger trailed over Prim’s name and a small smile finally appeared on her lips.

I managed to forget all about Cato until the service was over, and everyone had spilled outside the chapel. It was so bitterly cold, no one was inclined to stay and socialize with anyone beyond a small wave from afar.

Cato was the only moron meandering by, lurking closer and closer to Katniss as she fussed over the blanket her mother was trying to throw over Prim, but then she was told to cease, and the baby got whisked away, leaving Katniss seemingly disheartened by the Church doors. 

“Hello Kitten.” Cato rasped startling her. “You seemed very moved by that baby dedication, huh?”

Katniss jumped practically out of her skin. “Oh, um, yes! I was just so grateful my little sister is healthy, and see her blessed by our Lord was wonderful. She’s so sweet.”

Cato leaned closer. “You’re sweet, Kitten.” He said lowly. I had been straining to hear what he was saying already. "I'll give you something a lot sweeter than candy, Kitten. You’ll cry from pleasure if you let me consume you like a soft sweet.”

Katniss eyes widened with horror and disbelief. The despicable worm smiled smarmily, causing her to recoil.

I looked around, my father was talking to the preacher— a loaf of bread passing from his arm to man’s easily— he’d be no help! So I stepped in between Cato and Katniss.

“Go home,” I ordered her.

She searched my face a second, and then rushed off without a word.

I rounded on Cato. “I warned you to leave her alone.” I said impassively.

Cato laughed, “What?” He taunted. “Are you going to fight me at the church’s door, Mellark?”

I shook my head. “I won’t dirty my hands touching you, but make no mistake, Cato, it will come.” I shoved my hands into my coat pockets, and started heading the same way Katniss did.

Cato laughed again, “You’re all talk, Mellark. But that’s alright, I’ll come through for your sweet sister!”

Those were the last words the townsfolk heard Cato say, ever again.

* * *

It was misting again. The kind of precipitation that would soak you to the bone without you noticing it was happening if you stayed busy outside for a while.

People milled around town running errands while holding their coats close to their bodies and hiding their heads under wide-brimmed hats. Everyone tried to beat the mist and fog home before the upcoming storm.

I had just picked up an order of sugar and spices from the grocer, and we’re making my way back home, absently thinking I should’ve brought a tarp, or even a towel, to put on top of my bundles, but I hadn’t been thinking straight before leaving the bakery.

I spotted Cato shoveling goat shit into a bucket. His blonde hair, thicker and straighter than mine, was plastered to his head. His coat and trousers were soaked and splattered with mud, grime, and goat feces. He looked angry, annoyed. As if he hadn’t volunteered for the job. 

I would’ve found the image laugh worthy, if the hatred I felt for him hadn’t been burning a hole in my stomach. All I could think about was the things he’d said about Katniss, the way he’d harassed her in a public place and nobody stepped in to call him out on it.

The frustration and heartbreak of the last few weeks magnified the anger deep inside me and soon, I was thinking of my mother; the things she would say to me when she was alive: “Embrace your emotions and let them lose. Let them fill you, and they'll guide you through. Be one with nature, and nature will obey your moods!” 

I closed my eyes and did just that; I let rage and sorrow saturate every inch of my being. I even call on my jealousy and helplessness to aid my fury. 

I could feel something unfurling in my chest. It stirred and pulsed alive and murderous. A mutt with sharp teeth, claws, and eyes that wore my body like hermit crab wears an empty shell. 

A thunder rolled in the distance when I snapped my eyes open. 

The it started. Around his feet first.

Cato tripped over upturned roots that hadn’t been there before.

He looked at the ground confused and flustered; he gave the root a frustrated poke with his shovel and turned away from it to keep work. 

A new root arched wide over the damped earth, catching the toe of Cato’s boot, hooking it in place.

He cursed loudly and tried to yank his feet free, but the roots tightened their hold, making him sink and inch into the mud. 

Cato hacked at the roots with the edge of the shovel, now frightened. He freed one boot, but the broken pieces turned to vines that started climbing up his heels, and wrapped around his ankles making him shriek.

He landed on his ass, gasping in fear.

When Katniss was seven or eight, she used to hunt in the woods around our district with a tiny bow her father had fashioned her before perishing. She would get squirrels right through the eye, and my father would praise her for her innate huntress’ skills!

Sometimes, when she’d seemed to have lost track of time, our parents would sent me out to fetch her, and she’d let me carry her game bag for her. On occasion, when she was in a good mood, and hadn’t chided me for walking too loudly, she would have me sit on a stump nearby. I got to watch her shoot those times, in awe of her skills.

Invariably, her kills had this look to them, like they could hear the swift, low hum of her arrows piercing the air. They would stand still, only their noses twitching nervously, as if trying to guess which direction the zoom was coming from, before falling lifeless to the ground.

Cato reminded me of those days. His blue eyes showed the alarm I've seen so often in prey.

He couldn't get to his feet, and people started noticing something was wrong with him.

I needed to hurry up, or risked being discovered.

A clap of thunder rolled close by; my eyes left Cato for a moment to stare at the flash of light breaking above. I smirked and looked down at Cato still struggling to get back to his feet.

I couldn’t resist, I stepped right into Cato’s line of vision.

He stopped struggling momentarily. His forehead furrowed above his eyes. He saw me watching him, smirking, clearly enjoying the show. Understanding dawned on his face. His eyes got round and startled.

”You? How?” He gasped. “It can’t be!” And then his eyes widened even more. 

I could tell he finally made the connection. 

“No...” He called, his hand reaching for me from where my vines squeezed his calves on the ground. “It’s not possible... Everyone, look out!” But it was too late for him to alert anyone about me.

The roots tightened making him yelp in pain. His confused, scared eyes found me. 

I mouthed, “You wanted sweet?” I sneered, throwing the line he said to Katniss back him, “I'll give you something a lot sweeter than candy." Then I looked at the sky just as the lighting cracked, and pulled the flash down onto Cato.

There was a split second where his eyes widened before flames engulfed him whole. He understood then, why he had been punished.

The people watching bleated in horror, and yanked their eyes away just like the goats cowering in the pen as far as they could get from the torched man writhing in pain by the fence.

But as much as I thought Cato deserved to be burned to a crisp, I still had to bring home my shopping. So I released the Mutt and felt the anger wash away instantly. 

The flames got sucked out from Cato’s body at the same time I released the Mutt. 

Men and women rushed to help him, but it was too late. The lighting had singed his hair and part of his flesh like a roasted pig.

I heaved my bundle of sugar over my shoulder and walked away, unnoticed and unsuspected. 

* * *

I came to in bed drenched in a cold sweat; my heart beat frantically against my rib cage. I was momentarily disoriented. My eyes took a minute to adapt to the dark.

A small, warm hand pushed back the hair flopping over my forehead, making me sigh and melt back to my lumpy, old mattress.

I trapped her hand in mine, luxuriating in her touch, forbidden to me.

“You had a bad dream.” She said softly. “I tried to wake you, but you just trashed and kicked your covers off.”

“I’m better now that you’re here.” I muttered, kissing her fingers.

I was sure she could feel the goofy smile on my lips against her digits.

“I’ll be going back to bed then, before anyone realizes where I am.” She whispered with an edge of regret.

Forbidden love was just an oversimplification of our relationship. My heart bled for her, my chest hurt with longing; she was only a foot away, but I wasn’t allowed to touch her. I was afraid the situation of my sanity was dire.

“I love you, Katniss.” I said, kissing her wrist tenderly.

She caressed my face. “Did you do it?”

She asked so low I could pretend I didn’t hear her.

”It would explain why you cursed Cato’s name in your sleep so many times before waking.”

I had never lied to her before. I were not about to start then. “He had it coming!” I grumbled. “The things he said about you! He made you sound like a depraved... _trollop_.”

She hummed, neither angry, nor forgiving; her hand cradled my chin.

“Peeta, I’m not as pure as you make me out to be, either.” She chided softly. “I bore you a child at fifteen, remember?” Her voice had no bite, but I could hear the sadness there.

“How could I ever forget? It’s all ever think about. And sometimes I think things aren’t so bad, and then, our parents do something else to punish us, and I feel like I can’t take it anymore!”

She shushes me softly, placing a tiny peck on my lips, too small to even taste. 

“I know. But you can’t expose yourself again. It was too risky.” She kissed my forehead. “I’ve missed you so.” She mutter there. 

”You’re not appalled by what I did?” I begged her.

She sighed. “I’m not... thrilled, you torched a man with your powers. You know how I feel about you being found.” Her eyes found mine in the dimmed room. There was no fear there, only sadness. “If anybody had even suspected you... what frightens me, is that you may be found.” 

“We could run away,” I said desperately, grabbing her hand, pulling her flushed against my chest that ached for her.

She kissed my lips tenderly, her free hand caressed my cheek. “Not without Prim. I won’t leave our baby behind.”

I sighed, “I know. I couldn’t leave her either. None of this shit is fair.”

“It isn’t. But there’s still hope.” She sounded almost like her old self, but faintly. “Once you’re twenty, and I’m eighteen, our parents won’t be able to stop us from being together any longer.”

I nodded. Because I wasn't as confident as her. “Only two more years.”

“Only two more years.” She agreed, then kissed me once more, and she left my bed and me behind. Again.

* * *

**Katniss POV**

The summer of my seventeenth birthday, I hopped into a train headed for home, from Capitol City.

I was giddy with excitement and could hardly sit still.

District 12 was a drab little place compared to Capitol City, were I‘d banished after finding I was expecting my step brother’s child. But 12 was home. More importantly, my secret daughter and the man I loved were there, waiting for my return! At least, waiting for me as much as a lover who’s not allowed to talk to me and a nine month old babe who hasn’t seen me in five months, could.

Primrose was an unexpected turn of events for Peeta and I. I couldn’t regret her one bit. She was the only person I was certain I loved. 

I loved Peeta too, but I also hated him at times. It was hard not feel either way when I was the one who got cast away. 

Peeta and I had been so careful for months before Prim happened.

And when it was painfully obvious Prim was on her way, her daddy repeatedly asked me to run away with him, because he knew our parents— the whole town full of judgmental ninnies, really— wouldn’t understand, let alone allowed a relationship between teenaged ‘_siblings’, _despitebeing obvious and generally known, we had no blood bonds between us.

But I was over confident and arrogant.

I got sloppy, and daring, and ultimately, I got pregnant.

Peeta was always so handsome in my eyes, with his cornflower blue eyes; ashy blond hair falling on waves over his forehead; that crooked smile of his that still made my stomach fluttered, and those manly broad shoulders and solid chest! I realized no sister loved her big brother with the same passion and dedication I loved mine. 

Then when he was sixteen, I saw him kissing Leevy Green behind the schoolyard, and envy ripped through me, swiftly chase by heartbreak. I was so jealous and hurt, that night while in bed, I demanded he kissed me like he'd kissed her.

The poor thing nearly lost his sweet, blue eyes for bulging out so much when he heard me.

He refused at first like any good big brother would at such outrageous demand. I was his little sister after all, but I insisted for days, until I finally wore him down.

Peeta told me he’d kiss me quickly, and show me there was nothing exciting about it. He said I’d probably be grossed out by the end. 

He was sorely wrong. Why he wouldn’t stop kissing me, after! 

I knew by then, Peeta had already experienced his first sexual encounter, with Libby.

Again, I instigated the issue until he caved. His nervous apprehension lasted all but ten minutes after I pulled his hand under my sleep gown and covered my naked breast with it.

I whispered into his ear, “You can do as you please. Just promise me you won’t go back to Leevy?” 

“Never!” He panted against my throat. “From now on, there’s only you, Sweetheart.” 

What were two teens unsupervised, in bed together, to do?

Then he pushed into me, and made me his. 

When my mother figured out I was with child, I was already three months far.

I had known for one month.

Peeta found out after my mother slapped him on the face for it.

He grieved our affair dearly when our parents sentenced us to sleep in separate rooms and never speak to each other.

But we’d been naughty children indeed. I couldn’t completely blame our parents for overreacting to finding out their precious angels had been acting on carnal urges even adults would shy from. 

Being away from home so long only helped my need for my lover grow greater.

But I promised myself to stay away from him when Primrose was born, if only to keep the peace. It was my mother’s chief demand, to end my ill conceived relationship with Peeta, in order to gain back her trust, the right to be around my daughter.

It wasn’t fair, but I was a mother now, and I understood.

* * *

Our reunion was subdued.

Mother and Peeta’s father came to the station to collect me, but Peeta was at the bakery watching Primrose and the shoppe.

My first reaction was anger that my mother’s continued gatekeeping of Primrose. The second was resentment and envy. Mother was punishing me worse than Peeta for having a child underage and out of wedlock. He got to see Prim and even babysit any old time, while I was exiled to the Capitol and given a pittance of time with my own child. It was cruel and unusual!

All my moodiness broke away when Peeta came to meet us at the door; but the joy only lasted so long.

Prim didn’t know me, she’d never had the chance to bond with me, or learn my scent. I was a virtual stranger to her, so she cried when I lifted her from Peeta’s arms.

Her disconsolate wails, and her little arms reaching desperately for my mother and stepfather to be taken from me cut through me like being impaled with a burning knife through the gut. Prim clung to my mother like a vise.

I could barely hold my tears and the trembling of my limbs back. And then mother chided _me_ for the babes reaction, like it was my fault my baby had no memory of me. Like I had been away for five months willingly. 

I was devastated.

“I’m sorry,” Peeta said with unshed tears in his eyes. “She gets really fussy when I hold her too. They rarely let me around her, you know.” He sniffled. “None of this shit is fair.”

His words finally made an impression on me.

He was right, and I was ready to do something about it.

* * *

“May I please serve dessert?” I asked my stepfather demurely. 

He’d always had a soft spot for me, I was going to exploit it that night.

“Of course,” he said readily, stepping away from the pie dish and handing over the knife to me.

My mother had taken Primrose to sleep already, and Peeta had been sent outside, to feed the pigs.

“Katniss, can I tell you how proud I am of the big strides you’ve made in order to get back on track, and in your mother’s good graces? You’re an outstanding girl, a very good daughter indeed!”

I smiled sweetly. My stepfather’s words made me sick with rage, but I bid my time quietly.

When Peeta returned from feeding the hogs, our parents laid sprawled on the sitting room sofa.

“What happened here?” He asked rushing to his father.

I leaned casually against the wall, admiring my short fingernails.

“Oh, they’re fine. They’ve just nodded off a moment.”

“They just nodded off? What do you mean exactly? How one just nods off so suddenly?” He insisted, bending over his father to check his pulse.

I rolled my eyes and walked up to him. Once I was right beside him, I let my hand follow the line of his spine with the tip of my fingers.

Peeta froze. His breath hitched and I could hear him swallowing down loudly.

Encouraged by his near paralyzed reaction, I plunged my hand into his riot of blond waves, and sighed at the feeling of his soft, soft hair between my fingers.

He whimpered a little, leaning into my touch.

It was obvious we were both starved for each other’s closeness and affection.

“I put sleep syrup in their pie slices.” I confessed quietly, scratching his scalp gently.

“You did what?” He turned sharply to look at me dislodging my hand from his hair. Concerned was evident in his scandalized eyes. 

I was annoyed, so I crossed my arms under my breasts. The ruse paid off, because his eyes were momentarily trained on my chest, his tongue peeled out to lick his lips, before turning those baby blues back to mine, still prodding for answers.

“It was only three drops of the stuff on each slice.” I huffed petulantly. “They’ll hardly be out an hour. What’s the harm?”

“What’s the—? Bad. This is bad, Katniss! You drugged our parents!” He screeched pulling at the root of his hair in aggravation.

“And you blew Cato up! Don’t act so high and mighty, Peeta. We all do what we must for the things we want. You barbecued a man to a crisp for threatening me, and I bought us some desperately needed alone time to be together.”

Peeta rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands, grunting. “So, just because I did something wrong—“

”Don't you mean, criminal?” I supplied sarcastically, arching my eyebrow.

Peeta groaned. “Fine! Yes! I guess you’re right. My deed isn’t just wrong, it’s criminal and punishable by death, but spiking someone’s good to incapacitate them is morally reprehensible, Sweetheart. You should not follow my example in this matters. You’re so much better than me, Katniss.”

I rolled my eyes again. It was so typical Peeta to put me unto a pedestal, like a beacon of virtue I was not.

“I’m not without sin, Peeta. I have done many devious things too. In case you need a reminder, I’m going to list some of them! I threw myself at you at fourteen years old. It was I who stole and drank the bitter teas from mother’s stores she keeps for woman who don’t want to conceive. It was I who procured your rubbers, even the defective one that brought Prim to us, to engage in sexual acts. It was I who wanted to read that naughty book with the intricate positions and then try them all. It was I who pursued her brother until he had no other choice than to give in to my demands.”

Peeta fell onto the chair behind him, defeated. “Alright, enough! You’ve made your point.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and asked softly. “And what, may I ask, you mistress of deviousness, wanted to accomplish with intoxicating our folks?”

I straddled his lap, unable to stand another second of this physical chasm. 

Peeta froze beneath me, but I could feel him stir to life under his trousers.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered seductively into his ear. “I wanted to be with you, darling.” I undulated my hips into his to illustrate my point.

He groaned and clasped my hips so hard, I thrilled at the possibility of finger shape bruises on my skin.

“Here?” Peeta asked aghast. “Our parents are… practically next to us!”

I pushed off him, and took a few steps away. “And our daughter is asleep in their bedroom, believing she’s theirs. And crying bloody murder when _we_ try to hold her. What’s your point?”

“This is how you’re trying to revenge, then?” He asked stalking me. “Am I only a means to an end for you?” 

“Maybe. Or maybe I am tired of missing you.” I tossed over my shoulder. “I’m not ready to befuddled the topic.”

”Then I’ll have to fill in the gaps myself.”

I turn so faced him while walking backwards, and impish smile coloring my face. ”I truly hope you would... fill in all the empty spaces, darling.” 

I had taken us to the dining room. The dining table dug into my back, so I leaned into the edge and shimmied out of my panties under my skirt. I kicked them up in the air with the pointy toe of my shoe and caught them easily in my hand. I motioned Peeta closer curling my finger in a come hither gesture. His darkening eyes rapt on my hands even as I shoved my dampened garment into the front pocket of his vest.

When he looked up, I gave him an inviting smiled.

His blue eyes had gone from startled and concerned, to wide and curious, ending into dark pools full of lust.

I knew he would do as I asked. He always did. 

“Now, Peeta,” I started in what he liked to call my ‘_school teacher_’ tone, I knew made his cock extra hard. “What would you rather do, love?” I bit my lip drawing his eyes to my mouth. “Take advantage of our time without chaperones and fuck your sweet, dear sister? Or waste the precious few minutes we have to ourselves, lecturing me about ethics and moral?”

“Fuck,” He breathed softly but readily. “Always fuck, Katniss.” He added licking his lips, staring at me lasciviously, sticking his hand into his pocket and choking at how damped the material balled up in there was already.

I hadn’t been under Peeta’s strong, delicious body in almost two years. But I had never stopped wanting him. I lost count of the nights I would rub myself to completion to memories of him above me.

I was positively ravenous for him; My body was as taut as the string of a fiddle, ready to be strummed.

“Good.” I said, my voice raspy and thick. I placed my hands on his strong, broad shoulders and stared him in the eye. “Now, shut up and eat my pussy.” I pushed him down to his knees harshly.

“Always!” He breathed out, kneeling in front of me without resistance.

“Good boy!” I purred, lifting up the hem of my dress, to reveal just how copiously my want for him dripped down my thighs.

* * *

**Peeta’s POV**

Bad. This was bad. It brought on the flood of images that tormented me, awake or asleep. A pain stabbed my left temple and I pressed my hand against it.

The sleep syrup lost effect sooner than expected.

I had Katniss writhing on top of the kitchen table, as gloriously naked as the day she was born, with my large, pulsing cock buried deep inside her wet, warm cunt.

She’d been so loud and beautiful. Her graceful fingers run up and down my chest, as if cataloging every new chest hair or muscle line she encountered.

I was lost in her newly shape womanly curves. My mouth attacking her decidedly larger breasts and darkened nipples, while she did the same to any part of me she could reach. 

We were both sticky with perspiration, saliva and naturally produced body lubricants.

It was a miracle I even heard my father’s confused cursed from the sitting room as he tried to move. He stood up, disorientated and his head started to sluggishly turn in our direction.

I panicked and lifted my hand as if to stop him, except, I actually pushed a strong hush of wind with my motion. My father toppled over the small tea table in the middle of the sitting room and laid unconscious on the floor again, this time by my hand.

Katniss’ mother moaned painfully from the sofa then. I couldn’t risk her waking up too, so I ‘_told’ _her to go back to sleep, and she flapped once on the cushions like a fish out of water and remained perfectly still after.

I had never spoken an incantation before! I had no idea it would emit a smell. Luckily it odor was faint and sweet, like calming lavender and sleep syrup mixed together.

“Peeta?” Katniss’ small hand caressed down my cheek, bringing my startled eyes to her sweet, sweet face.

I stopped moving above her while cursing our parents.

“Did I scare you?” I asked meekly. looking at her sheepishly under my lashes.

Katniss had seen me move things with my mind or produce tiny changes in the weather since we were little, yet she’d never seen me lose control if I could avoid it.

One time, after dragging me out of one of my nightmares, Katniss begged me to keep my powers hidden. She argued that my nightmares revolved around being found out and suffering my mother’s fate, and added she too feared this, and dreamt horrific things about losing me as well as losing her father.

Her father was beyond my help, but I could make her rest easy about my own predicament. I stopped using my powers altogether, until they grew too repressed and unstable inside my body I went Mutt for the first time. I knew I had to run to the woods before something bad happened, so I ran. I’ve always been a wiz with fires, but that day, in a clearing deep in the forest, I spontaneously combusted, burning everything I touched. Once the excess power had literally burned out, I managed to contain the inferno consuming the dead leaves on the ground and the trees close by.

I hid from her what happened, and used my powers inconspicuously but often to keep the build up at bay.

I had never hurt anyone without meaning to before, especially in front of Katniss.

“No, darling.” She murmured, flexing her pelvis into mine to encourage me to keep going. “You didn’t scare me. Just lay down right here a minute,” she sighed, pulling my head to rest on her heaving chest while her fingers combed through my sweaty hair lovingly. Her hips didn’t stop their shallow thrusting. “When you feel better, after we finish here, we should talk about all of this.” She offered quietly, kissing my hair lovingly. 

I kissed the spot between her breasts. “I want to take a bath. With you. I want to love you in our bed and cuddle you after. Like we used to do before this mess. Will you allow it?”

She massaged my scalp gently. “Alright, sweetheart. Anything you want. I’ll allow it.” 

To be continued...


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone!
> 
> Hope you all had espectacular holidays and nice safe winter. 
> 
> Unbetaed. 
> 
> Alternating POVs
> 
> There are a bunch of triggers here in this chapter, but I’m not sure how to label them... so let’s see: Child Endangerment-Implied and Explicit; Threats; Blink-and-you-missed-it Racism; Violence... etc...

**Katniss’ POV**

  
We laid in bed wrapped into each other like vines in perfect post coital bliss.

Once Peeta alerted me of his impending ejaculation, I dug my heels into his ass cheeks, refusing to let him spill his seed on the mattress.

When he was done orgasming, he tried pulling out of me again, but I just couldn’t bear the hollowness that would’ve followed after he left my body, so I begged him, “Stay within me, at least until you’re too soft to stay put.”

So he simply melted into a sprawling puddle on top of me, shifting his torso sideways so I wasn’t completely crushed under his weight; not that I would have minded if he just covered every last inch of me with his body. Being this close to him was a luxury I missed dearly.

We were quiet. At peace. Not even the sticky perspiration between our bodies, nor the slowly cooling mess leaking from the apex of my legs bothered us. I could have sworn Peeta had fallen asleep if it wasn’t for his thumb stroking my jaw with tender caresses.

After a very long while, he mumbled quietly into my ear, as if afraid to disturb the world around us, shattering the soap bubble we’d been floating in.

“Tell me about her birth?”

“It was scary.” I whispered, kissing his shoulder. “So painful. It started as an uncomfortable ache on the small of my back, then the flesh over my belly tightened and spasmed, pulsating cramps radiated from my navel, down. The throbbing and tensing took on a pattern, and the pain started to become more pronounced. The dull ache in my back settled on my hips, and then became excruciating, like my bones were being pulled apart. Mother said that was exactly what was happening, my body was making way to expel the babe.

“I begged the midwife to let the baby stay in my womb. I could protect her there; keep her close to my heart. I knew once the baby left my body I would lose her for good. But it was inevitable. When contractions came, I instinctively pushed. When the pain was at its most unbearable, I cried out your name,” I said nuzzling his muscular arm in hopes to comfort him; he tensed at my words anyway. “Giving birth to our baby without you there was one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life. Handing Primrose over to the nuns was perhaps the worst thing I’ve ever been forced to do.”

Peeta’s arms slipped underneath me, and hugged me tightly to his chest. “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart. Having you torn away from my side is the cruelest thing done to me, but nothing compares to the anxiety and fear I lived when my father told me your mother was putting the baby up for adoption. I couldn’t sleep or eat for days, I almost got myself badly burn once, accidentally. And then, your mother showed up with Prim in her arms and you, so frail and… lost.” He inhaled a shaky breath. “What made her change her mind?” He asked peering down at me.

I nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck and breathed in his scent. He smelled of sweat, sex and home.

“I honestly don’t know.” I held my breath for a moment and then confessed my suspicion. “I think it was Primrose herself.”

Peeta tilted his head back, an edge of skepticism coloring his words, “Primrose? How did you figure?”

I shrugged. “She’s your child, isn’t she? Maybe she’s inherited more than her looks from you.”

He cocked his head endearingly confused, and I couldn’t resist wrapping my arms around his neck for a searing kiss that started round number three; then again, saying no to a Mellark is next to impossible.

* * *

  
**Peeta’s POV**

I started courting Delly Cartwright a month after the day Katniss and I knocked our parents out.

We knew we were in deep shit— we had no illusions about it— we just had no idea the lengths our folks would go to keep us apart after the stunts we pulled.

Katniss’ mother demanded I left the bakery right on the spot, prompting my father to finally speak up on my behalf. He told her in no uncertain terms that the bakery was mine by right, besides, he needed me to help around still. So my stepmother contented herself with shipping Katniss back to Capitol City on the noon train, barely able to hug our daughter goodbye before being dragged away to the station. She wasn’t allowed to return until the summer.

The first time Katniss was sent away had been a plan our parents concocted to conceal her pregnancy. After all, Katniss was only fifteen and carrying her stepbrother’s bastard. Very taboo situation for our small town society. They left just as Katniss slight belly started showing. Her mother had gone with her to see her settled at her new school. To my astonishment, my stepmother returned a few months later with Primrose in arms and Katniss in tow, following her mother’s every step like a mindless shadow.

The baby was passed as our parents’ child as expected. Nosy questions started popping up about Prim’s birth.

_“Why did you kept quiet about it, Mrs. Everdeen-Mellark?”._

_To which my stepmother would answer with a forced smile that didn't reach her blue eyes, “Well, we conceived after seven years of marriage, and there was a miscarriage risk. Capitol City has the most wonderful maternity ward in the country and extraordinary midwives and doctors.”_

_My father, would interject dutifully, placing both hands on my stepmother’s shoulders, “We figured it was best to keep the news of a risky pregnancy to ourselves, in case the worse came to happen. We couldn’t possibly burdened any of our neighbors with such devastation.”_

_People would nod their heads in understanding and fan over the child while I watched from the fringes, like an envious outsider. Discarded. Forgotten._

When Prim started looking— startling— like me, nobody suspected anything of it; women just commented on how Primrose bore the Mellark likeness: deep blue eyes and soft blonde hair, long eyelashes, skin pale as ivory and rosy cheeks. Nobody noticed the rest of the babe’s features: the shape of her eyes, her pert little nose, the straightness of her hair… all Katniss; nobody noticed, except perhaps for me.

Katniss was missing so much!

The moment Katniss was ripped from my side, I committed all the little changes of her delectable body to paper. The memory of all the ways her body changed since giving birth, still makes my mouth water, to this day!

My lover looked so different than I remembered. Her hips were full; her breasts rounder, heavier, larger; the dark coarse hair between her legs more abundant. And then I discovered the thin lines— like an intricate system of roots— covering her sides and hips; she informed me those came from her skin stretching to accommodate our child, and I fell in love with her soft, olive skin all over again! I kissed each of the faint marks with adoration and thanked her for the miracle that was our Primrose.

A few weeks after our forced separation, while staring at our little girl giggling in delight at the mush of oatmeal muffin in her fist, the idea came to me in a flash. If Katniss had gone through so much physical work to bring our baby into this world, the least I could do for her, was to immortalize in charcoal and pastels the way Prim looked in every stage her mother had been forced to miss, same way I’d done with Katniss’ likeness.

Now, there’s where Delly Cartwright came into the scene!

Delly lived two houses down from us. She was my age, one of my closest friends outside of Katniss, and more importantly, she could send packages to ‘my sister’ without them being detained and scrutinized; something I wasn’t allowed to do.

I sketched Primrose in minute detail and snuck the drawings into letters from Delly, along with tins full of sweets I would hoard for weeks hidden from our parents.

Delly never questioned the arrangement. It wasn’t that she was unobservant, but Delly knew what it felt like having to hide a part of herself from her family. The truth was, Delly wasn't interested in boys; but being with me, allowed her to pursue the one person she cared about without fear of being shamed, or worse, disowned.

I wasn’t romantically interested in Delly either, of course, but I did care about her happiness. The way we saw it, our courtship was mutually beneficial. Delly happily passed along to Katniss the drawings of our ‘baby sister’, and I escorted her to secret rendezvous every weekend and made myself scarce at appropriate times.

Our ruse was working well too, until some vindictive, envious b— _classmate—_ of Katniss found the stash of contraband pictures of Prim and alerted the nuns in charge about it.

The harpies made poor Katniss burn every single sketch of our her beloved toddler in front of her schoolmates, an example of the consequences of breaking the rules.

Her mother’s lips twisted angrily, cruelly, when she came into the kitchens where I was elbow deep in dough, to ‘informed’ me of the telegram she’d received about it. She blamed it all on me, and while she was right to say it was my fault, I’ve never hated anyone or anything as much as did my stepmother then.

I would love nothing more than to say it was all the punishment Katniss got, but the odds had never been in our favor.

My stepmother threatened to leave the bakery and take Prim with her. My father pleaded, made a case of how she couldn’t just forsake her wedding vows to him, but I was the one she wanted rid of, so I caved.

I’ve already been denied the love of my life, I was not about to lose my child too, because while I wasn’t allowed to father Primrose, I was able to see her day and night and spoil her rotten with cookies and muffins. I compromised. I moved out, promised never to contact Katniss again, and came in daily to work the ovens with my head bowed and my shoulders hunched over.

As a last jab, my stepmother demanded I marry Delly as soon as I turned twenty; I considered it unfair to Delly. She didn’t have to pay for my messes. I told my folk as much.

“You can’t force that on Delly! First of all, she’s not _your_ child, praised be heaven for that; second of all, she does not deserve to be in a loveless marriage the both of you are pushing. She’s an innocent bystander, and I refuse to drag her into a life of misery to appease you.”

My stepmother’s lips thinned. “Very well, don’t marry the girl. But mark my words, Peeta, you and your sister won’t shame this family anymore! I’ll see to that!”

A cold shiver ran down my spine. I knew stepmother meant business. Sometimes it was hard to believe the woman was distantly related to my own mother, who while a bit eccentric, was open minded and didn’t care a lick about what the townsfolk thought of her… which in retrospect, she should’ve minded a tiny bit more after all, but all the same…

My mother and Katniss’ mother were as different as day and night in some respects, they were cousins who shared a family name in maidenhood, and now share my father’s name, but that’s the extent of it if one forgets to count their healing and herbal expertise passed down from their parents‘ parents. Katniss’ mother certainly lacks supernatural aptitud though.

I never dreamt the woman’s solution would devastate me as much, until Katniss’ engagement to Seneca Crane— easily thirty years her senior— was announced promptly a couple of weeks later.

I was speechless for hours. Hurting so badly, my emotions put a stopper to the magic residing in my veins. Even if I had the wherewithal to summon my abilities, nothing would’ve happened out of the ordinary. I had learned to keep this power under tight control at Katniss’ request when we were mere children, but knowing she’d been promised to another man broke me inside, repressed all that was special in me.

How our folks managed to secure the match, I didn’t know. All I knew was, our parents went behind Katniss’ back while she was sequestered at boarding school, and arranged a marriage without her input.

Crane was an apathetic, rich bachelor, with more land, cattle and crops a single man like himself would ever be able to use; and while Katniss was beautiful, sharp as a tack, and very appealing, she was just a girl with no dowry to speak of. Not to mention, Crane was notoriously discriminatory against people like Katniss’ father.

I wondered what the man could want with a half native, fatherless girl with no fortune to her name? A girl with a reputation for traipsing in the woods in her dead father’s trousers and leather coat, hunting with a bow and arrows? Nothing good was forthcoming, which kept me awake at night in a constant state of fear.

Our parents made the trip to Capitol City with Seneca Crane to make the engagement official. I didn’t have time to warn her, she had no time to refuse or run away. So I just sat and waited for my life to completely disintegrate from a broken heart, the only respite, they let me watch over Primrose while they were away.

* * *

**Katniss POV**

Night terrors hounded me since the day I lost my father when I was a little girl. He was a coal miner, and died in a cave in, buried beneath rock and dirt.

I was left feeling helpless, sad and hurt. My mother stopped laughing and caring. She almost lost herself to her grief over losing father, and it was losing her as well. I was orphaned with a living mother who was dead inside for a time. But then, there was Peeta.

My refuge. The only arms that made me feel as safe and protected after father died.

It doesn’t matter anymore.

We managed to ruin safety and loving partnership for ourselves.

Things were innocent between us in the beginning. Peeta gave me bread once during a stormy day that reflected the malstrom inside me at the abandonment of my mother and my father’s death. Then his mother was… taken from him ruthlessly and I gave him a dandelion, the first one of the season, just to express what my five year old tongue couldn’t, Hope wasn’t lost, despite our loses. We became a family of sorts a short time later, and things only progressed from there.

Nightmares had always plagued me after father died. In my dreams I would roam the District calling out for him,_ “Where are you? Where have you gone to?” Never to get an answer, until everything around me was a smocking wasteland, pungent with the smell of rotting corpses. I usually woke up when I tripped on a rock sticking out of the hard ground, scraping my knees and the palms of my hands. Only it wasn't a rock—it was someone's skull, and then the screaming and crying would shake me awake in cold sweats._

Peeta was eight and I was six years old when mother married his father. For some unfathomable reason, our parents put a cot for me in his bedroom, despite having other rooms available in the house attached to the bakery. Peeta’s father hinted it was so I wouldn’t be so scared at night, knowing my ‘big brother’ was there close by.

Every night, during the worst of it, Peeta would climb in my little cot and hug me tightly, shushing me and combing back my sweaty hair until I could breathe again. When I was ten and he was twelve, we exclusively shared his bed since it was roomier and softer. By the time he was fourteen, I knew in my heart I didn’t love him the way sisters loved their big brothers, but he didn’t see me that way. I was just a tiny girl who would cling to him to fend off bad dreams.

He had them too, the nightmares. That was the reason he took such good care of me during mine. His were about his mother of course, and the things she used to teach him to do. Scary, unusual and depraved things no mother should have any business introducing their toddlers to... or so my mother led me to believe.

I distinctly remember people calling Peeta’s mother ‘witch’ while throwing stones at her and the bakery.

I remember seven year old Peeta standing to the side, cowering behind his father’s thigh, clutching his hand for dear life, staring with terrified eyes the mob tearing his mother’s skin off her bones for her pagan ways.

I will never forget what the people of this District did to Peeta’s mother right before his eyes, and how they acted, like they did him and his father a favor ridding them of her.

I was scared beyond belief. His mother’s blood ran in my veins despite being a few degrees removed from me. What if I was like her? What if I could call the crows with a whistle, or command the winds into storms at my whim? What if I could kill rats with a flick of my gaze? Mother assured me I wasn’t like Peeta’s mother, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t pass it on.

The fear in Peeta’s eyes won’t ever be erased from my memory.

I vowed no child of mine would ever have to suffer what happened to the little boy with the bread. No child of mine would ever be privy to such fate. But as a little girl of five, scared and heartbroken, getting flashes of my mother back, I cried my fears away with my head on her lap while she carded numb fingers through my tresses… how was I supposed to know her vacant eyes and distant mind will trap this conversation in her memory and use against me someday?

“Sign the agreement, Katniss.” Hisses my mother through her teeth, lowly so my stepfather doesn’t hear the threat. “Sign the agreement, so we can go back to your sister and brother. We don’t want people realizing what shenanigans your brother gets up to, do we now? For all we know, he may be teaching your baby sister his nuances. And the trouble your brother would get with the townsfolk if they knew.”

I glared at my mother wondering if this feeling of betrayal will ever go away?

I signed my name, legally agreeing to become Katniss Crane, three months shy of my eighteenth birthday, when I would’ve been old enough to marry my step brother without my parents interference.

* * *

**Peeta’s POV**

She came in the train today. All new clothes and trunks full of linens and fine china to begin her life as a married woman.

I was at the station wringing my hat in my fists. I couldn’t just miss her arrival; I was a glutton for punishment, because for once, her mother let me hold Primrose in my arms in public and I was allowed to walk her to meet the newlyweds before they went home to Seneca’s manor.

I saw the moment her eyes found us, her breath hitched. She stared at Primrose greedily. Hungrily. I couldn’t begrudge her that. She hadn’t seen Prim in close to a year and she’d missed much. I had tons of sketches hidden away for her of course, but it would never be the same as seeing it first hand.

Seneca dropped from the train cart like a spring. His blue eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the station and the people milling around. Then he made eye contact with my father and stepmother and practically shoved Katniss forward with a rough hand on the small of her back.

I felt anger spiked, but Katniss’ mother gave me a look that made me stand down.

“Mother, Father,” Katniss greeted curtly. Then stopped short in front of me. She stared at Prim for a moment, gray eyes roaming longingly into the little girl’s face, then turned her head to her mother and practically begged, “May I hold little Primrose?”

“Of course you may hold your baby sister, sweetie, go ahead!” her mother cooed, smiling at them both.

Rage and indignation coiled around my chest.

_How dare she?!_

I let my fingers graze Katniss’ hand when I put our child in her arms. Katniss looked into my eyes then. I could sense something wasn’t right; I could see a secret message hidden there.

I frowned, but she took my hand boldly and squeezed it tightly.

“So good to see you, _big brother_!”

Every nerve ending in my body stood on alert. She’d never, ever called me anything other than Peeta.

“You too, _Sissy_.” I replied with intent.

Her smile was wide and full of teeth, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Not until she looked at Primrose anyway.

“Cathy, you’ve seen your family, like we agreed. Now is time to go home and start married life anew.” Said Seneca dryly.

“Her name is _Katniss_,” I blurted out staring at the man in the eye.

He didn’t blink.

“Cathy is _my_ wife, and no wife of mine is going to be going around town answering to such a… provincial, uncivilized name.” Seneca countered bluntly.

My father cringed, her mother stared flabbergasted and wounded. My hackles rose, but I had been masking my true emotions for so long then, I slipped behind the calm and jovial facade easily.

“Well, if a husband can’t call his wife by a more suitable name than the one her father gave her, then what is the point of marriage?” My smirk came to my lips automatically.

Seneca eyed me suspiciously. He scrutinized my face for a few seconds, before nudging Katniss in the shoulder. “Give the child back, Cathy.” And in a most disgusting show of dominance, he leaned closer and spoke into her ear, loud enough the whole platform could hear, “After tonight, you’ll have plenty of opportunity to make me children, to keep you busy.”

Katniss recoiled minutely, her fingers curled around Prim’s head, covering her ears and bringing her closer to her chest. Her eyes flew to mine. She placed Prim back in my arms, trembling. “You watch out for her, won’t you, _big brother_?”

“On my mother’s grave, _Sissy_.”

Seneca grabbed her upper arm and dragged her away from us without saying goodbye. The expression of terror that crossed her face only added to my unease.

I turned to our parents then, not even concerned with the people watching us. “You selfish sons of bitches. What did you?” I demanded lowly.

“Peeta, give me the child. You’re in shock.” Said my stepmother reaching for my daughter.

I took a step back and twisted my body away from her outstretched hands. “No, I think I’m going to hold on to my ‘sister’ now. I don’t know what the fuck just happened here, but Katniss isn’t safe with that man. If anything happens to her…” Suddenly my throat constricted. “It’s on you two!”

I stalked home with Prim in my arms, her little pink lips pursed in confusion, but she was safe. In my arms. Where she belonged. Where mother belonged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how short this chapter was. I’m still trying to get back into my groove. Hopefully I’ll get back into swing now that I’m mostly recovered from December and a bout of grief over Star Wars. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!!!

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for inconsistencies and repetitiveness. I’ve been working on this piece on and off for a week on very little sleep thanks to a toddler that’s gone full on a terrible twos rampage and a 9 year old with a full schedule that necessitates a chofer. 
> 
> I tried really hard to have this published on Halloween, but it was either posting unedited stuff, or actually sleeping for once and editing in the morning... and afternoon... well into evening of November 1st, really. At least its still autumn and this fic is a Fall fic. So yeah.
> 
> Any who, I’m anxious to hear what you have to say about this piece, because it’s written in an experimental style to me. Pardon the tenses if they get funky at times. I’m using tons of canon quotes, most had to be altered to fit the past tenses. Unlike in my other works, I’m not basing any of the supernatural elements on folklore or any other sources. I’m flying blind here and building the world as I go. Please... bare with me? And thank you for reading. Your support means the world to me!


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